Gone
by Zenayin
Summary: And she wept, for the friends she lost, for the lives of their murderers that she didn't take, for her own living because it was no more a living with nothing to live for, she wept for the memories and dreams that lay shattered to pieces in her heart...


**Disclaimer:** The characters are not mine, even if I like to foster them in the insane world that is my mind.

**Author's Note:** This is just a short drabble. Maybe I'll write a fic that explains the background story once, but, just venting a bit for now. I'm in so much pain right now that I feel almost dazed, and it seems like I'm going to have to get used to it, so... Expect more of these in the future, and apologies if they aren't exactly bright and fluffy.

* * *

She trained her wand on the figures laying at her feet, quickly going through all the dark curses she stumbled upon in her days at the library. They had to suffer. She had to pick the ones that would make them feel the pain that became _her_, they had to scream until they could scream no more, just like she did in the darkness of her own room countless times ever since Harry and Ron died, and just as she screamed in her mind ever since...

No. She would not think about that, not now, not here, not while standing at the graves of the people with _her_ blood on their hands. She must not think about _her_.

"Miss Granger!" called an urgent voice from somewhere on the grounds and as she turned around to see who it was, Hermione spotted Snape -no longer _Professor_ Snape - approaching her. If she could feel anything at that point, she would laugh at the way the otherwise elegant and dignified man jogged towards the gates with his robes flailing about as the wind picked on them, but the numbness took her over a long time ago, and she simply turned back again, not caring anymore.

Oh, but she did care. The anger that burnt deep inside her, the rage at those men for taking away everything that mattered to her... They deserved nothing but death, a slow, painful death, and she would make sure they paid.

"Listen to me, child!" he shook her by the arms as he came to where she stood and saw her still ignoring him, his voice intense against the soft moans of the Death Eathers in front of them. "Do you want to become a murderer? Don't spend yourself for petty emotions. You have far too great of a potential to waste yourself upon them. And if you must, never anger, Hermione... Anger will destroy you. Spare yourself for love, if you want, friendship, if you must, but never, _ever_, anger. Hatred and revenge will not heal your wounds... Trust me. Please." 

And in that horrible moment, she realized what he was talking about. His own anger and thirst for revenge had sent him to Voldemort - and his own downfall. _But they deserve to die,_ said a tiny voice on the back of her conscience. _Life for life, blood for blood._

"Miss Granger! _No._ Let it go. They are not worth of you. Any part of you. You will do no honour the memory of your friend with another death. _She_ wouldn't want that."

Hermione struggled to free her wand hand for another second, then slumped in his arms as he reached for her. _Ginny... _He was right - Ginny wouldn't want Hermione to undignify her memory with more blood, even if it was the blood of... She sobbed. The lively redhead was gone, and the ache in her chest was suddenly so physically painful that she couldn't breath. The memories of what she lost washed over her mind - Ginny and her, huddled together by the fireplace, Ginny, building a Dumbledore-snowman on the Hogwarts grounds, Ginny, wide-eyed and full of remorse when a Thestral approached her for the first time, Ginny, swaying under the weight of the swords in her hands as they were taught how to fight in the DA, Ginny, her body almost shining in the dim light of candles as they lay together, the world seemingly frozen in the moment of peace, Ginny...

She clung to Snape as he took her away from the bound bodies of the Death Eaters in front of the Hogwarts gate, trying to catch a few shuddering breaths between the wreaking waves of pain that spread around her body and mind. _Spare yourself for love..._ What love? All the love inside her died the moment she saw Ginny's face as the girl fell, replaced by grim and persistent pain, dull sorrow... And the knowing that this was the end, that nothing will ever be the same, _that she was alone now_, the last of her friends - and the only one she loved so fiercely - gone, forever, beyond her... The future that they built together in the warm nights of the previous spring turned to ashes, the small harbour that was her Hope lost. 

Warm tears ran down her cheeks and onto Snape's shoulders as he carried her back to the home that was no longer her home, but only a hollow building, a cold pile of stone... And she wept, for the friends she lost, for the lives of their murderers that she didn't take, for her own _living _because it was no more a living with nothing to live for, she wept for the memories and dreams that lay shattered to pieces in her heart - the heart that felt like it was cutting itself into small shards of glass, no longer full, but empty, so empty and broken and sole and _c o l d_ . . .


End file.
